Volume 3, Number 10
October, 1998
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Letters from A Retired Professor
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by The Professor |
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Greetings from the land of the retired. I know many of you (ok, both of you) have been wondering what the Professor has been doing with his time since giving up the old column-a-month grind. Well, I'll tell you: I've been growing a beard.
No one ever said retirement was exciting.
I am almost ashamed to admit that, in all my post-pubescent years on this mortal coil, this is the first beard I have ever cultivated to full bloom. I've tried a few times before, but I always lacked the patience to see it through. Inevitably it would reach that transition stage where it starts to really itch, and I would cave in and shave it off.
This failure of mine to ever grow a proper beard may seem trivial to some of you, particularly those of you who suffer from a chromosome deficiency, but it has always troubled me on a level which I never quite understood. For some reason, I always felt somewhat inadequate as a man, and I was never quite sure why. I had never really had any career ambition, so I felt certain that it wasn't that. For a while I thought it might be my sexual prowess, until I reached the conclusion that sex was not something a man should base his self-image upon, it was something he should do just for fun. In fact, it wasn't until I had actually seen my beard-growing commitment through to fruition that I realized where I had been failing all these years.
Women do not understand how vitally important it is to man to be able to grow a beard. Not necessarily to actually HAVE a beard, but to at least be able to grow one. They look at a beard and all they see is a scruffy, scratchy, food-encrusted soup-strainer that tickles their thighs and covers half of a face that often times is better off being covered up anyway. Then they get jealous.
"He can grow one and I can't," they say to each other in their clandestine bathroom gatherings. "I will make him shave it off, just to show that I can control him" they add, then cackle deviously amongst each other.
Which is why it is so important to a man that he be able to grow a beard. Aside from our penises, a beard is the next most important aspect that sets Man apart from Woman. A beard is a facial testament to maturity, masculinity, and virility. Our beards cry out "I am a man! Cook me food and bring forth strong children for me!" To be able to grow a beard is to officially take ones place among the other males of the tribe. Thus, until a man grows that first beard and grows it well, he will always see himself as somewhat less than the other males.
Of course, deep down, women understand this and they fear it. They know the irresistible allure that facial hair has. They know that as soon as the other women catch sight of their man in his male facial glory, they will be all over him like a cheap suit. Therefore, the best way to mark their territory is to make it as unappealing to the competition as possible. To crush his spirit and remove any trace of masculinity he may have left, and the first place they start is with the beard.
So go forth, my young friends, and reclaim your manhood. If you have not already done so, set aside that razor and embrace your inner male. Grow that beard, grow it well, grow it full. Then find yourself a room full of women, stride boldly into their midst and listen to your beard say, "Stand back ladies, I have testosterone and I'm not afraid to use it!"